Laying Down the Law

So I'm biking home from work a couple of months ago. I get out of work around 1:30, two o'clock in the morning, and I bike through the little downtown area. If you don't know Portsmouth, it's a tourist town, and our economy is sustained by alcoholism. Just to paint the picture, we have a lot of one-way streets, drunk people, and out-of-towners. Toss smug, indignant bicyclists in to the mix and it starts to get interesting.

Anyway, I'm riding home on my bicycle, coming down Congress Street. That's the one-way main drag, from Market Square to the old library. Now, since the speed limit throughout downtown is only 15, I always claim my right to take up the full lane, since that is a speed which I can easily maintain, so I'm not an impediment to traffic. So I'm riding down Congress street, and I see a pair of headlights coming right at me.

Those with weak constitutions might have the initial reaction of swerving out of the way. This is wrong. This is letting the offending driver know that they have more right to drive the wrong way than you have the right to take the lane. Even if the situation were reversed, and someone was biking up the road the wrong way and I was driving, I would not move for them.

Headlights coming at me. I angle my own bicycle headlight up slightly, so it's straight in the face of the driver, and let a few blasts rip on my bicycle's air horn. They roll to a stop. The driver gestures his desire to continue forward, the wrong way up Congress street. I simply shake my head, no, and . Several seconds of this head-to-head stand-off tick by. Eventually he puts the car in reverse and turns around, the right way. There were a group of locals nearby, on the sidewalk, and they cheered for me. It felt pretty good.

Well I don't know what the point of that story was. I guess it just pays to be doing things right. If I didn't have my headlight (which is legally required after dark) I wouldn't have stopped the car. I always say, as cyclists, if we want the rights of the road, we have to accept the responsibilities. Accepting my responsibility with my headlight and ubiquitous red-blinky rear light, I've earned the right to not be ignored or marginalized after dark. I stop at stop signs, I wait at red lights, and I never ride up one-way streets. In going the extra distance of getting a loud horn, have I have earned the right to be occasional traffic enforcer?

Local Group Rides

This page is way out of date. I just don't do group rides any more, partly because of the extreme amount of crap that groups have been getting from the cops, and from car-people. Both of the Portsmouth/Rye rides got pulled over by the police in September, a couple people even got arrested on one ride. There have been problems with drivers being malicious towards group rides. The 2009 Seacoast century was a complete and total shit-show; there were something like 4000 riders, and they were basically all jackasses. I'm just not interested in large group rides.

I am, however, totally in favor of riding bikes around with a couple friends. If you just want to go for a ride, please feel free to contact me.

Originally, I had hoped this page would get some more feedback from local riders, and that people would submit their rides and I would keep the page updated. If anyone wants to start a collaborative-effort page about local seacoast New Hampshire-and-around group bike rides, please let me know. In the mean time, watch this space, and I'll probably eventually add some links to the local shops' group ride pages. Of course it's December as I post this, so it may be a couple months before anything interesting happens.

---

This is from Summer 2008--I can't guarantee non-defunctness on many of these. On the other hand, please do let me know of any rides that you know of.

Please include:

• day
• time
• meet location
  
• relative or absolute level (speed/distance/time)
• any other details or requirements

I'll try and get out there and ride your rides and post about 'em!

So I guess people are wondering about local group bike rides, particularly out of Prescott Park. I hit up the seacoast area bike shops and chased down any group rides I happened to come across in an effort to put together a list of local rides:

Monday

• 5:15pm @ Daily Grind, York Beach
  
• 5:45pm @ Exeter Cycle - 18mph, 30+ miles, no drops
  

Tuesday

• 6:15pm @ Gus' Bike - moderate pace, 20-30 miles, no drops

Wednesday

• 5:30pm @ South Berwick Post Office
• 5:45pm @ Exeter Cycle - "Wednesday Night Worlds" - 25+mph, 40+ miles, drop=bike home alone
  
• 5:30pm @ Prescott Park - Granite State Wheelmen "Slouch Potato Ride" - easy cruise to Rye Harbor, full-on race home. Wicked fun. ~20mi
• 6pm @ Rye Foreign Auto Works
  

Saturday

• 7:30am @ Gus' Bike - Amesbury Ride. 40-50 miles, includes good hills.

Sunday

• 9am @ Bicycle Bob's - 30-40 miles, no drops
• 9am @ Lee Traffic Circle -
  

These are just a few that I've heard about so the descriptions might be a bit fuzzy. And of course one person's moderate pace is another's leg-breaker--I'll try and make an effort to check out every ride at least once or twice and give a more objective description.

If you know of any other local group rides that I've missed, please leave a comment with the days, times, distances and any other pertinent information, and I'll add it to the list.

Thank you Josh "Monster Jam" Austin for the additional information.

The 'Best' Cycling Hill in the Seacoast

Okay, first off, I hate hills. I mean, what we call the "King of the Mountain" sprint is only 41 feet above sea level. It's a joke. We're all about the pancake-flat coastal highways here. Wind? No problem. Hills, on the other hand, present a problem. Hills are important though, and I'll tell you why.

Force. I mean the force which is generated in your legs, not the force which is apparently generated by midi-chlorians in your blood. "Force, or strength, is the ability to overcome resistance," says Joe Friel's Cyclist's Training Bible. "It also has a lot to do with how big of a gear you can turn when you want to go fast." And the only proper prescription for training force on a bicycle is hills. Force, along with speed-skill (how fast you can turn the cranks) is the foundation of power, which is the key to sprinting. So, perhaps counter-intuitively, training on the hills can help to prepare you for sprints on the flats.

It was with this in mind that with a few friends and teammates I set a course for Amesbury, Massachusettes, and Powwow Hill--the highest point in whatever county it's in. Powwow Hill is only 330 feet, and the relative rise on the sub-half-mile of roads leading to the top is 220 feet or so. That means it has about an average 10% grade, which is obnoxious. We only did three reps on it, that was enough to send us home in tears.

My rear cassette is not conducive to hill climbing. It seemed like the other guys had 27's and/or compact chain rings. I just can't take those steep prolonged climbs. Also I have the core strength of an overcooked rigatoni. That means that there's nothing for my legs to push from when applying force to the pedals. This is caused by a severe lack of situps. Another problem is that a tough, steep hill will break me a lot faster than a long one that's moderately steep. I feel like I'd get a better workout on a three-mile 5 percent grade than a half mile at 10 percent, because I could do more repeats. I don't know where to find that within a reasonable distance (15-20 miles from Portsmouth) though.

But whatever. I recommend Powwow Hill if you are looking for a hill that's pretty close and you're ready to get your ass handed to you. If anyone knows better, let me know.

Episode IV: A New Slouch

Part of the response to my cycling race-training panic that I mentioned last week is that I am only riding for myself. If that means getting dropped on a group ride and crawling home solo, then so be it. If that means popping out of the pace line to sit in the wind because I want to keep my heart rate at a steady 164-168, then I'm going to do that--even if it doesn't make sense to anyone else in the pace line. If my training plan doesn't entail a sprint, then I'm not going to take the bait when someone else jumps. It is by taking my training rides for myself that strengthens me for my team and friends for when it matters--in the races.

Now that I am back on my Annual Training Plan, which I had completely drawn out back in January, I know exactly what workouts I need to do to stay on track to be able to bring my maximum potential for the races that are most important [to me]. This week, I need an endurance ride, which I knocked on on that 50-mile bike ride around York County on Monday. Also I need a muscular-endurance ride. Right now, that means tempo. In other words, keeping a steady pace on the bicycle and just hammering it out.

I took this tempo approach at the Slouch this week. I went to the head, got low, got aero, and just started grinding it out. I wasn't hammering or anything--I just kept a steady pace, didn't make any quick accelerations, and maintained a steady power output that was tolerably painful, ratcheting up the pace slightly as we approached Rye Harbor, where we let everyone catch up.

Now, if you know anything about the Slouch Potato Ride, then you know it's a pissing contest. It's all about the pointless attacks, and doing anything you can to shatter the group. But there was none of that this day. I sat on the front and pulled a steady 22 miles an hour or so through the New Castle loop, about 6 miles on Route 1B. As we approached the first stop sign, someone said "nice pull"--as if it were over--I think not! I kept the same pace, and stayed on the front, all the way down to Ocean Boulevard and another three or four miles before everyone else sitting got impatient with the pace and came around me. I swung out in to the breeze and finished steady in to the wind as the others attacked and sprinted the last 500 meters or so. When I looked back, I saw that most all of the 25-person group had hung on--usually there are maybe five of us or so left by the end.

What happened there was that I had held a steady pace of about 22mph, which was enough for everyone, and not too much for most everyone else. In order to pass me in any meaningful way, one would have to set the pace over 25 miles per hour, which no one particularly wanted, particularly in to Route 1A's coastal wind. This sort of going-to-the-front action sets and controls the pace of the ride. This is also exactly the same tactic that Professional cycling teams like Astana employ to control the race during a stage race. You will see the whole Astana team at the head of the pack, setting a tough pace to discourage anyone else in the peleton from attempting to break away.

Anyway, it was really cool to have most everyone still in a pack when we got to Rye Harbor. Normally we end up spending a lot of time waiting for everyone to catch up, so the guys that get there first have totally cooled down by the time we head back, which is annoying. This time, everyone was right there or close behind, and we turned back in just a few minutes.

We had Rami set the pace on the way back. It really just boils down in to a 25-minute tempo workout if you pull the whole way, but the problem is that it's too easy if you sit in--everyone behind wants to attack. So I just sat at second wheel, so I could rest fairly easy, but also keep Rami clear if anyone tried to pass him, putting him in to their draft. When people eventually started to come around, I was in position to just blast off the front. If they wanted to go ahead, they would have to go hard to catch my wheel, so people were either sitting on me or siting on Rami, and he could keep his tempo. Eventually I just positioned myself right on Rami's shoulder, in order to box in Ben Goss and the troop of followers behind him:

In order to get around Rami, he would have to back all the way off his wheel and get around me first (blue). As soon as I would see him start to drift back to get around, I'd punch it out ahead, so he would have to catch up, wearing himself and anyone else that followed out in a pointless chase (red). If they caught me, I'd just drift back to Rami and drag him back to the front before resuming my position on the flank. Meanwhile Rami's just doing a tempo workout without regard to anyone else--not taking the bait of attacks, and just riding steady. Mind you, I was only working to keep him in the wind so that he could do his tempo workout unfettered.

We held everyone off through most of New Castle, and were in the last two kilometers or so before Rami got irrevocably surrounded by the pack. I punched it off the front to let everyone play catch-up and waste some more energy before the "King of the Mountain." The "mountain" I wouldn't even really call a hill, it's a knoll at best. I didn't bother contesting it, and drifted back. As we came over it, I could see the field had split in two, there were five up ahead by perhaps three seconds at most, and maybe eight or ten in my group in front of me.

Now, there's been contention lately as to where exactly the "finish line" is. Some people insist (wrongly) that it is at the crest of the bridge, where the Portsmouth town line is. The real line is about 400 meters after that, at the second of the three crosswalks, just before the turn in the road. There used to be a line and "LE FIN" spray painted on the road. Also there's a huge "Welcome to Portsmouth" sign which some people might consider. But just to be sure there wasn't any confusion over the last 500 meters, I layed it down hard, bridged the gap and passed the group of five before the first line, and held a gap until the finish. No one followed my move, which surprised me. Ben insists it was because he was so annoyed at being boxed in the whole time, he didn't have the spirit to contest my attack.

This was a great ride. Not because I took the finish. It was a great ride because I got the workout I needed, I didn't feel frustrated, and I rode smart, for myself and then for a teammate. NorEast controlled the ride, and I think that everyone in the back appreciated the steady pace without attacks. Having the majority of the pack hang together is something that never happens on the Slouch, so it was cool. From here on out, I am just going to ride the Slouch as two 25-minute tempo intervals, or to just generally shut down the break-away guys.

Frisbee's Market, Kittery Point

Cycling up the Maine coast is ideal. There's just something about any 12 miles of Maine coast that is strikingly better than 12 miles of New Hampshire coast. Route 103 north through Kittery Point to York Beach's Route 1A and then up through Cape Neddick to Oqunquit is just a perfect route for riding a bicycle. Route 103's got the rolling hills to make sure you haven't fallen asleep on the bike, then York Beach's Long Sands has a flat open strip that you can really haul on--except for the summer traffic and pedestrians that lack the common sense to look before stepping out in to the street. Also, there's a mile-and-a-half strip of tourists all trying to parallel park their Windstars at once--if you can imagine. As you can imagine, it's a prime area to be smug as a cyclist. Anyway, it's not that bad just yet--Memorial Day is next week.

So Keith and I were going on a one of those long-easy rides I was talking about on Monday, and took the afore-mentioned route. We decided to cut Mount Agamenticus out of the loop by the time we got there--we weren't looking to do force training, just endurance. The sort of training where you just see how long you can go before you start to hurt, not how hard you can go. Pushing back the fatigue barrier is the key element to base training for cycling, and thereby has the greatest training value.

Anyway, I hit the wall somewhere on Route 103 south, after we had about 50 miles or so, and still another five or ten ahead of us to get home. The wall of hunger is a pretty serious thing. It's that line where you are suddenly taken with a knot in the stomach, and every turn of the pedals just makes you more and more sleepy. You might even feel a little bit drunk--the carbohydrates that your brain regularly uses for things like thinking and being awake are in short order in the blood stream, having been used by your legs. You feel kind of like a zombie. Replenishing carbohydrates at this point is becoming paramount.

Fortunately, there just happens to be a convenience store here--Frisbee's Market. It's a family store that has been there for over 180 years, but it very nearly went out of business entirely before being bought by an investor and is now managed by the previously owning family. The significance of this little store [to me] is that it is the only place in the entire United States that I have ever seen Coca-cola in glass bottles. And not just regular glass bottles--small eight-ounce glass bottles. Here:

I've never seen it anywhere else. Twelve ounces [one can] of cola is more than health/carbohydrate-conscious cyclists like us need, and a twenty-ounce bottle is just gross. These bottles are just enough to wash down a made-fresh-daily spring roll and get you rolling again.

So if you happen to be in the area of Kittery Point / Route 103, I highly recommend Frisbee's Market, and 8oz glass-bottled Coca-Cola. Check it out.

My Own Medicine

Okay, last July I wrote about being a hammerhead at casual group rides as something to do, and mildly entertaining. Well. It occurred to me yesterday that it is totally obnoxious.

See, I went to check out the Tuesday recovery ride at Gus' Bike. I brought my 30-pound steel touring bicycle because I figured it would be an easy ride. Well, the tables got turned. NorEast has a new punk new-comer that wants to make you cry, and his name is Evan. Rami's vaguely coming in to form, but doesn't ride often enough to need recovery rides. Another three or four guys were feeling strong. Almost as soon as we head out of the parking lot, Even and Rami turn on the juice, and we're doing 26 mph for no apparent reason. And worse, it's not a steady pace line--everyone's jumping around to the front and semi-attacking and just generally being a meathead. This is how the lead group in the Slouch Potato forms, as well. The primary problem with this is that it leaves gaps in the line. So whoever's in front of me jumps up ahead and leaves a gap. I'm not particularly in the mood to close a gap at around 25 miles per hour so I let it sit open, ever-so-slowly widening. The two guys left behind me just jump around me to catch up.

And I'm dropped, off the back, good game--that was stupid. Five minutes in to the "recovery ride" and I'm dumped. I was swearing to myself, indignant that my teammates would be so rude to totally disregard the purpose of the ride and ride like total jackasses. I mean, until I realized that jackassery was one of the ideals that I've always upheld. But here I am on this tank of a touring bicycle with giant tires and . . . so yeah, it was frustrating. I resolved myself to bike home alone at my own pace, and the rest of them could put it in their collective ass.

Until I came to the corner to turn on the Route 1A and head north, towards home. Jeff, the Gus' Bike shop owner, and his son were waiting for me. They were just in for a recovery ride too so they decided not to follow the group. What a relief. We took a reasonable pace up the coast and took turns drafting and heading the wind. Eventually, even the rest of the group turned around to meet us. . . .

And then immediately blasted around us. On both sides. Rami cruises by the three of us, in our peaceful little paceline, on the right, basically in the gutter. It was one of the most obnoxious maneuvers I've ever seen someone perpetrate on a bicycle. I mean, other than myself. Because that's totally the sort of thing I'd do almost any other day of the week. So we immediately got dropped again. It was stupid. There was absolutely no purpose in turning back just to hammer again. This time I tried to hang in but couldn't make it, I was in the middle of no-man's land with no desire to catch up, so I stopped and waited for Jeff and his son, but they never came. They had turned around to go home, since their work had been done, and the ride no longer needed them. I biked home alone.

There is one other thing though. The fires of my power core and fueled with fury and rage--things that have been in short order in my life lately. Retribution will be the game at the Slouch this evening.

Further Evidence of Global Warming

A week or two ago I mentioned global warming and how thrilled I was about it because global warming is good for cycling. If the ninety-two-degree April in New Hampshire didn't convince you that global warming is real and is affecting New Hampshire, please let me present to you, Exhibit B:

I was just biking along, minding my own business when this giant parrot alights on my shoulder, most likely mistaking my bright red jersey for a potential mate. What is this bird doing in Portsmouth, New Hampshire anyway? I can only assume that points south have been turned in to tropical rainforest or a desert wasteland reminiscent of Mad Max. I take my bike rides north these days, to Mount Agamenticus and Maine's coastal route 1 and 1A.

At any rate, there you have it. Sex-addled tropical fowl are appearing in New England. Clearly the end of the world as we know it is coming, and in short order. When the gasoline runs out and people are dumbfounded and lost without their cars, I'll be laughing triumphantly. Maybe people will think twice about driving the car to the end of the driveway to get the mail from the postbox, but by then it will be too late.

Also, macaws are pretty.

Goldilocks

Well, so far I've been posting mostly on Wednesdays. I picked the day at arbitrary, mostly. I have Tuesdays off usually, so I can get a post off by Wednesday morning no problem. The other thing that's interesting about Wednesdays is that it seems like every afternoon group bike ride is on Wednesday. The three major afternoon Wednesday group bike rides in the seacoast New Hampshire area are The Slouch Potato from Prescott Park, the Rye Foreign Auto ride, and the Wednesday Night Worlds out of Exeter Cycles.

The Slouch Potato, there's not much left to say. I've covered this Prescott Park group bike ride before. 5:30, Prescott Park, about 18 miles. I'd say that the pack is mostly made of the charity rider crowd, and the pace is pretty easy, but it's not a soft-pedaling stroll. Sponsored by Granite State Wheelmen.

The Rye Foreign Auto ride. Hmm. Maybe someone can tell me where the deuce Rye Foreign Auto is, because the only Google results I can find lead right back to here. I run in to these guys on the road a bit and I like their pace. I think the shop owner runs the ride but CCB shows up and takes it over, similar to how NorEast's Cat 5's show up and take control of the Slouch Potato.

. . . Oh. It's called Rye European Auto. Nevermind. Found it. Maybe I'll check that out tonight.

Wednesday Night Worlds. I understand this is a fun ride if you like riding by yourself, because chances are you will be immediately dropped. This is good news, because I do happen to enjoy riding by myself. My motivation while just out on the road to ride hard by myself is not very high though, so I don't think getting dumped by category 1's and 2's (and, i understand, the occasional PRO) would be terribly constructive for my training.

So there you have it. I feel like Goldilocks and the three group rides. All three are on Wednesday, all three at 5:30pm. Depending on what mood I'm in each week, each may be too fast or too slow--or just right.

Slouch Potato!

Oh, almost forgot! The Slouch Potato ride starts again today:

• Wednesdays, 5:30pm Prescott Park, Portsmouth
• 18 miles or so, a short ride
• various paces (you won't get dropped alone)
  

Handlebars

So a few weeks ago, I noticed something very strange and disturbing. First, the snow melted. As far as I can remember, it's always been there, and this sticky brown stuff with the soft green spiky things all in my yard is highly distressing, I have no idea what it is. And if that wasn't bizarre enough, suddenly the sun started going down an hour later. The days are longer and warmer than ever before. They weren't joking about global warming. It must be all these fumes the cars are emitting. People need to ride more and drive less or next thing you know, the sun will be shining down and scorching the earth with temperatures in excess of seventy degrees for over twelve hours a day, and I don't think anyone wants that.

All hope is not lost though. I have seen great numbers of people riding their bicycles each day, in a last-ditch effort to save the environment. In fact, rumor has it that the Granite State Wheelmen are starting back up their Prescott Park Wednesday rides--the now-famous Slouch Potato ride, next week (5:30pm Wed. Prescott Park). For those that missed it last year, the Slouch Potato is an epic battle of strength, endurance, wit, and finesse. Haha, just kidding. It's a 12-mile pissing contest with absolutely no training value whatsoever.

It's fun though, and the big guns representing my team, NorEast Cycling, have started it up pre-emptively over the last couple of weeks. Meathooks was there, Operación Puerto, Keith "Lumberg" Limberg, Ram-stein. Ripstick hasn't been around, yet. I look forward to him blowing himself up and having nothing to show at the end as usual, it'll be fun.

Also my bike isn't totally back to 100% from the ravages of winter just yet. Still need to do that spring cleaning. For one, the crappy wrapping job I gave my bars last year has really worn off. A nice bike like Rohan deserves better, I should get on that. I'm actually a little embarrassed about it--a little self-conscious. John called me out on it at the first Slouch ride as soon as I showed up. "Nice handlebars," he said. I kind of mumbled something about getting new tape on nashbar.com or something.

"Not those handlebars, those handlebars," he replied.

Haha, oh right, those handlebars.

April Sneak Preview: 2009 Portsmouth Criterium!

The NorEast Cycling 2009 seasons kick-off meeting is coming up on Friday, but I've got a special sneak preview announcement for team members that read my blog here:

I've been given the honor of being Route Coordinator for this year's crit and I gotta tell you, I intend to shake things up! First, I had a round table meeting with several parties, including crit racers from previous years, local business owners, residents along the course, and other interested parties.

The Portsmouth Criterium is one of the biggest races in New England, but there's always a room for improvement, and I've addressed a lot if not all of the concerns that everyone has had over the last few years.

A few of the major things that came up were:

• road closing is inconvenient for drivers
• most of State Street is crappy to ride on
  
• riding the wrong way on one-way streets sets a bad example for the children (think about the children!)
• bicycle races are like totally boring anyway

Taking these and many other issues in to consideration, without further ado, here is the OFFICIAL 2009 Portsmouth Criterium course map!

(click to enlarge)

The first and most major thing that you will notice on a glance at the map is, of course, that the direction has been reversed. This is so that the bicycles aren't going against traffic. In previous years the course has been closed to traffic, but in response to 'lobbying' by the the New Hampshire Hummer Owner's Association, the course will be open to regular vehicle traffic in 2009. I mean, "share the road" means sharing equally, not commandeering wholesale, right? Remember: 'crit' in this circumstance means criterium, not critical mass.

The other thing that you'll notice is that the southern half of State street has been cut out of the course. This is because, frankly, it sucks. Portsmouth refuses to pave it because there are no pretentious restaurants along that strip. Instead, I've added a bit on Fleet Street. Actually, now that I think about it, Fleet street it a bunch of potholes too, down by Gilley's. Oops. Oh well. It's too late to change it now.

Which leads us to the third major change. One of the major complaints from non-cyclists is that watching bike racing is just plain boring. A bunch of dudes in form-fitting spandex sweating and panting as they breeze by ever minute and a half or so just isn't for everyone. However there is one thing that everyone enjoys--the alluring horror of the serious possibility of a severe accident. That is why I am proud to announce our premier sponsor for the 2009 Portsmouth Criterium: The European Organization for Nuclear Research--more commonly known as CERN, the organization that created the Large Hadron Collider.

In honor of CERN's constant advances in science, the 2009 Portsmouth Criterium course will have its own super-collider, at the intersection of Fleet and Congress streets. If this isn't exciting, if this doesn't prove that road cycling isn't just a bunch of sissies poncing around in spandex, I don't know what will.

At any rate, the 2009 Portsmouth Criterium presented by CERN and H2 is shaping up to be a great one! To recap the changes:

• Direction reversed
• Course changed slightly
• Course no longer closed to traffic (yay!)
• Exciting LHC-style course intersection!
• Two new sponsors!
  
  1. CERN
  2. GM/H2

Best of luck/condolences to everyone from NorEast, and to everyone else, we'll see you at the races this fall, I hope!

Bridging Past and Future

I don't know if it's "going around" or if it's just me, but I got whatever was going around. It hit me Thursday night and totally incapacitated me until Monday morning. I think somewhere in there my heat went out as well, but I was so delirious from fever and Robitussin that I can't be sure. When I emerged from my deathly slumber, I found that apparently three feet of snow had been dumped on New England. I'd been completely unaware While everyone else was digging their cars out and such, I'd totally missed it. I'm not particularly keen on shoveling snow so I guess I'll add that to the list of reasons not to own a car.

Anyway, I trudged in to town and picked up the only reputable paper in Portsmouth--The Wire. The Wire's cover story this week is about the state of the Memorial Bridge. The Memorial Bridge is a major point of interest for local businesses, but also for cyclists, as it's the only way to get from Portsmouth to Kittery, Maine on a bicycle without adding like 20 miles to your route. The Seacoast Century's route goes over it. I've had adventures biking over the Memorial Bridge. Even Seacoast Area Bike Routes has made it one of their "projects" which I suppose entails mentioning it as something to look at doing once every three years or so.

Anyway, The Wire reports that the Memorial Bridge is at the top of the state's "red list" of bridges that have a 5% or higher chance of collapsing when you cross it. The article outlines the three options on the table for the bridge: removal, replacement, or restoration. Obviously removal isn't a viable option, but that's Maine's preferred choice. Then there's replacement. Basically, both the Route 1 and route 1A Memorial Bridge will be removed and replaced with a single high-rise like the I-95 bridge. Then there's the restoration option. Unfortunately Maine won't fund restoration, so the burden of cost is entirely on New Hampshire and private sources.

For cyclists who enjoy cycling from Portsmouth to Maine, along Rt. 103 and beyond, I guess this is the story to watch. This isn't really news though, that bridge has been a sketchy rusty rickety centerpiece of Portsmouth culture for some time now. And even if they do knock it down and replace it with some bridge invented in cycling utopia, with a bike-only lane separated from traffic and no drawbridge and whatever other amenities you might ask for, I'll still miss the Old Bridge.

(full story)

AYHSMB

My new wheelset. This one is for you, Portsmouth. Thank you Cassandra for the inspiration:

Eminent Domain

If you live in Portsmouth, you know the one bike shop that's basically downtown is Papa Wheelie's. They have a pretty decent location, I guess. They've got a very palpable roadie attitude though, which is thoroughly dislikeable. This isn't the kind of shop you bring your beater bike to if you don't enjoy being sneered at. However, being the one bike shop "in town," they do get a lot of the "I don't know why I keep getting flats" demographic.

That's neither here nor there though. What is interesting, however, is a recent news article from the Portsmouth Herald which reports that Papa Wheelies has been pinched for eminent domain. They aren't closing for good or anything; the city isn't putting in a new fire station or anything like that. The city just needs to do some work on the sewer lines and, from what I can tell, just needs to dig up their parking lot or so, for a couple months in the winter. Papa Wheelies says this will cost them 30% of their yearly sales and needs some six figures from the city to compensate. Whatever.

In other news, there are a couple other bike shops coming in in Portsmouth, or so the rumors have told me. One is right downtown, and should looks like it will be a douchey spin-gym. The other is a small bike shop sort of near Papa Wheelies that looks like it might be pretty cool, and entirely non-douchey. Something for the townie/normal people demographic.

We'll see how these develop.

Best of Craigslist: Portsmouth

Every once in a while I'll peruse nh.craislist.com/bik and make a post about what's there. Yes, as a matter of fact I did pilfer the idea from BSNYC's Worst of Craiglist, however since New York City is almost twice the size of Portsmouth, there aren't enough posts for me to make a weekly theme out of it.

However, I did across this:

Super Christmas gift! Shiny Low Rider. Velvet seat, side mirror, front light and wheely bars. Well taken care of just out grew. $150 or B.O. local delivery if needed. Call Jake or Chris or email me with questions.

http://nh.craigslist.org/bik/913139800.html

I'm skeptical about the "wheelie bar" -- I can't imagine how it would be possible using physics to make this beast do a wheelie. Also banana seats freak me out. But I would like to see this being ridden around by someone. That would make me smile.

The Big Race

Like most epic races, from the Tour de France to the Paris-Roubaix, the 2008 Presidential Race has come down to just two contenders, the rest having been left by the wayside. Teams Sponsors are instead Campaign Donors (or lobbyists). The treacherous mountains are represented by the swing states--anything can happen. But it's the final individual time trial--the race of truth--that will determine the real winner on the Champs-Élysées, or more appropriately, Pennsylvania Avenue.

But like the Grand Tours, this race takes more than just one person--it is a team effort. Whether you support the socially and fiscally conservative GOP which hasn't held to its ideals of less intrusive government and curbing deficit spending, or the Democratic Party which favors universal health care and a generally communitarian view of economics, we're in for a solid race. The Democrats have substantially greater numbers, but can they rouse their base to "Barack the Vote?" Or will they view the election as a forgone conclusion and let DEWEY DEFEAT TRUMAN once again?

I'll be supporting my team--er, party--by taking a ride down to the polls today. It's supposed to be pretty nice out, polls are always close to your house, and you are a jerk if you don't vote, so there's three reasons that you have to bike to the polls, as well.

Tell your friends.

Autumn in New England

Everyone already knows about autumn in New England. It's about the leaves. See it by bike!

(click for full-size)

The Final Slouch

Okay, so Wednesday afternoons were the famous Prescott Park Slouch Potato group ride. But as autumn and winter's shadow loom over Portsmouth, afternoons become just a memory--morning leads directly in to evening, with nothing in between. For normal people that have full-time jobs, this means there is no time between work and darkness for cycling outdoors. Consequentially (although not unexpectedly) the Slouch Potato group ride has come to an end--at least for this year.

Last week's final slouch was covered by GC Cycling's roving field reporter, Ben "Operación Puerto" Goss. Here is his report:

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Jittery showed up in his Civi’s expecting a relaxed last ride for the season. He took a page from the Ripstick book of slouchiness and showed up with jeans (although, not acid washed spandex) and non-cycling shoes (although not leather clogs). He was slouching in style.
Lee was a no show. Ripstick was a no show. The Hammer was a no show. JT was a no show. Keith was a no show. Fred was a no show. It was up to me, Meatfist Taco Bell Lover, and Nick (my God, have we overlooked a nickname for Nick? The Greek? The Sweater? We gotta come up with something here) to represent.

I was sort of hoping for a relaxed ride also, but I ended up hooking on with Steve and Duane (was that you Duane?). After a smooth warm up along the causeway, we started to amp it up a bit. We took pretty even turns pulling through Rye and down the beach. There was a decent headwind, but we still were pulling 23, 24, 25 mph. It was brutal. I thought my lungs were going to get caught between my chain and my big ring. However, I still managed to close the door on the sprint, but that’s only because Steve and Duane (?) didn’t know about the outbound finish line.

On the way back it was another hammerfest, but we lost Duane (?) after the wood bridge. Some giant dude with aerobars caught up to us and then dropped off. No idea who he was or what he was doing, but he was big and fast. Steve and I beat each other up until the town line, where Steve thought it was over. So, again, I won le fin only because Steve didn’t know any better.

So, in summary, I hurt a lot and took advantage of the fact that I knew where the sprints were and other people did not. And Meatfist used the ol’ “I’m going to ride with Amy” excuse. Nick used the ol’ “My wrist is limp” excuse, and Giles used the ol’ “I’m wearing street clothes and I’ve become a wafe-like, pasty, gamer and the sun is burning my retinas” excuse. But at least they showed up…

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Wow. Well Ben, congratulations on Dominating the Unwitting, BSNYC Style. I better hit the weights this winter if I am going to be able to contend in spring--see you then!

Critical Mass (?)

A few weeks back I scoped out a rumor of a critical mass in Portsmouth, that I had vaguely scraped up deep in the bowels of the internet. No one else even knew what it was about and I couldn't find the page that said what/when/where it was again. Of course, the bowels of the internet aren't where people go trolling for information about outdoor activities, generally--so it's no surprise that no one else heard about it.

However: last week I saw this flyer:

That says "Friday Sept. 26th -- Strawberry Bank Parking Lot -- Ride starts at 6:00pm."

I think it's going to be raining but maybe I'll check it out.

Granite State Wheelmen Seacoast Century

Quarter-till-seven in the morning is pretty late for me. That is to say, it's pretty late at night. It's pretty early to be waking up on a Saturday morning, and I'd be disinclined to do so without major prompting. Twenty minutes later I was out the door and pounding the pedals in a solo effort to bang out the southern section of the ride and make it back to registration by eight o'clock to meet up with Chris Adams of the Suitcase of Courage blog. A 20-mile time trial at seven in the morning is not a cool way to start a day of nine hours of cycling. Also it was below 40 degrees, which I was not prepared for.

After meeting up with Chris and his friend Larry at the Hampton Beach State Park, we headed out on the north section. It's was still freezing so we set a pace that was a bit fast, so we could warm up. By the time we made it up to the greater Portsmouth area, it had warmed up. The first rest stop was in Kittery, Maine at Fort McClary, which was a military base from the Revolutionary War. We resupplied there. One thing they had was Powerbar Gel Blasts which was like a big chug of Coke in a little gummy bear thing. They were good.

Anyway, we headed on. I took several wrong turns, because I wasn't watching for the road markers. I mean, I live here. I grew up in Kittery, and I've lived in Portsmouth for eight years. I know how to get to Cape Neddick. One of the other guys behind me would yell "yo, this way," but I'd keep going and meet up with them a mile down the road, when the paths converged again. Once we reached Nubble Light in York Beach, I (and absolutely everyone else) took a picture of the lighthouse:

We continued around the rest of the way to Cape Neddick and back south. About this time, Mile 70 or so, I started to crack. I was really hungry, and really tired. I immediately ate and drank most of the carbohydrates I had on me, in a bit of a panic. It was just enough--we made it back to Fort rest area without bonking.

After a refuel, we made our way south, back over the Memorial Bridge (we walked our bikes on the sidewalk) and through New Castle and Rye and Route 1A. Somewhere in Rye, Chris and Larry pulled over to use a construction site's port-a-john, for the 3rd or 4th time on the trip. I hadn't had to use one yet, and I didn't at this point either. I must have a whale of a bladder or something.

As I waited by the side of the road, a guy going the other way rolled to a stop a ways up the road, apparently with a flat tire. Boredom and convenience, as much as Samaritanism compelled me to help him out. We changed his flat using my spare tube and Larry's CO₂ and sent him on his way. He was prepared to walk his bike back home to Portsmouth, about seven miles away, which would have sucked. As it turns out, he just moved to the area, and previously lived in the same area of Connecticut as Larry and Chris. Small world.

We took a short detour through North Hampton (okay, I turned the wrong way again, but this time they followed) and ended up going to Gus' Bike. It so happens that that was their last day of business, so the few remaining things on the shelves were 70% off. Not including bikes, which would have been awesome. Not that I could have ridden two bikes. But for 70% off, I would have tried.

We got back on track, back on 1A, and in to the last few miles of the ride. At this point I thought to myself, wow--what am I running on? we're on mile 95 and I'm not about to die or starve or fall asleep. I have no idea what my energy source was, this was by far the longest mileage I've ever done in one day. But I'm all about "go big or go home" (I often go home) so I hit it hard for the last three miles, just to punish myself. When it comes to how much energy you have left versus how much distance you have left, I think it makes sense to do it so you have zero energy when you have zero distance. So I hammered it out. It was cool.

Then I biked back home to Portsmouth, another 12 miles. That was kind of lame but I was so delirious by that point that it didn't matter. I got home about 4:30 in the afternoon, nine hours after I left in the morning. Total distance: 112 miles. After a brief nap I went to work till 1:30am which totally sucked. I was not in the mood for it at all.

Whatever, it was a great ride. I'm glad I can add that to my cycling resume. When I began cycling this year, one of my goals was to complete a century, so I consider it as a personal victory. That is to say: in simply finishing, I won the Tri-State Seacoast Century.